The Power of Ink
by ms-southwoods
Summary: Three years after defeating the Dark Lord, Hogwarts is ready to welcome new generations of students. Amongst them is also one Hermione Granger, not returning as a student but as a newly graduated Potions Mistress. While settling in, she discovers a book in her new chambers, and is shocked to find that she can communicate with the long dead Slytherin Potions Master.
1. Chapter 1: The Late Bastard

**A/N Hello everyone and welcome! This is my first ever fanfiction, and I hope you can all bear with me, I promise I will learn more as I write! I'm not sure yet how long this story will be, but I'm suspecting somewhere around 15 chapters. I'll be updating as often as I can, and you needn't worry, I do have some chapters already in store. If you're here for the lemons, I'm afraid you'll have some waiting to do. The rating for this story might change later on, so be warned. This story is more about the development of a surprising friendship, later on partnership. But I'll promise to give you some fluff in between. These first few chapters will contain mostly necessary stuff for the plot line, but I promise it'll get better. Now, enjoy!**

 **Also if there's any beta reader interested in viewing my chapters, I'd be glad if you contacted me! I must warn you all, I'm not a native speaker, so there might be some mistakes from time to time, but I promise to do my best!**

 **Disclaimer: These beautiful characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and sadly I am just borrowing them for my own amusement. (And also because I believe Snape deserved a second chance)**

 **Full description:**

Three years since defeating the Dark Lord, Hogwarts is finally ready to welcome new generations of students. Amongst them is also one Hermione Granger, not returning as a student but as a newly graduated potions mistress. After settling in, she discovers a book in her new chambers, and is shocked to find that she can communicate with the long dead Slytherin Potions master. As their relationship evolves, the bold Gryffindor starts having issues with accepting the demise of her one time Professor. Can the smartest witch of her generation solve the unsolvable? Is the enigmatic Professor really dead, after all?

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Chapter 1

"I cannot begin to tell you how glad I truly am to be welcoming you back, my dear", Minerva McGonagall exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around Hermione Granger for the second time that morning. "I'm truly relieved I found such a marvelous replacement for Professor Slughorn as well as someone to take care of our Gryffindors."

"It's good to be back, Professor", Hermione returned as she sighed in the heart warming embrace from the witch she had come to miss in the three busy years since they last were able to have a nice conversation face to face. "Oh, but you don't go by that title anymore, do you, _Headmistress?_ ", she emphasised the new title as she retreated from her arms.

"Don't be silly. You may call me whatever you'd prefer, although I'd like for you to call me just Minerva. We are colleagues now, after all, aren't we?", Minerva reminded her, giving her a humoured glance. "Now, shall I introduce you to your new living quaters?", the Headmistress continued as she looped her hand through the new Potions Mistress slash Head of Gryffindors, and started towards the nearest stairs that let down the castle. "I must be certain though, dear, are you absolutely positive about staying in the dungeons? We have made some arrangements to the heating systems down there, so it shouldn't be as drafty as it used to be, but I'm sure you would enjoy yourself better in somewhere less… somber and eerie. As I said earlier, we have new staff rooms on the third floor…"

"I'm sure I'll manage, Professor, _Minerva._ The chill won't bother me, I'm able to use magic, after all. What comes to the eerieness, I guess I'll just have to adapt. Besides, I'll be closer to my classroom and office, as well as have an opportunity to brew whenever I like. This is assuming your new staff rooms don't include their own Potions Labs as well", Hermione interrupted, a small smirk playing across her lips.

Minerva frowned slightly, but couldn't argue her points. She replied thoughtfully, "I'm afraid not, although I still think…"

"Excuse me for interrupting you again, Minerva, but I'm convinced I'll make myself at home in the dungeons. I also heard some rumours that the previous resident has gifted his rather extensive collection of books for the next Potions Professor, and honestly, I can't wait to get my hands on those" Hermione explained enthusiastically, already planning on reading each and every one. "I must admit thought, I was a bit surprised Professor Slughorn would do that, I never took him for the reader type, nor exactly the generous either...", she was distracted from her musings as her company came to a sudden halt. She met the Headmistresses' eyes with a puzzled look, which was met by an attentive frown.

"Yes, the rumours are somewhat true, Hermione. The study in the dungeons as well as your new office do include a vast collection of books, some of them very valuable and rare. But the thing is, those books didn't come from Professor Slughorn. In fact, I bet he hasn't had one in his possession for years…", Hermione watched as Minerva diverted her stern gaze from hers and straightened her robes. "Actually, they were all left... useless by a Potions Professor before him…", The rest of the sentence was no louder than a whisper as Minerva's voice drifted into silence.

Hermione understood her reluctance to talk about the subject they were getting dangerously close to. Talking about the events of the war was still a sore subject for anyone who had been included in the horrors, and now, seeing her old Professor struggling with her own words made Hermione's heart clench. To this day, the biggest issue still dividing the crowd's opinions was the mystery of the Death Eater revealed to be a Spy for the Order. There had been a lot of controversy surrounding the enigma that had been Severus Snape, and it had had its affect on the people who had been closest around him, then and now. There were still a handful of people defending his honor, like Harry Potter himself, but lately they had arrived to the conclusion that the war was still too freshly on the Wizarding World's mind.

Hermione suspected Minerva was still feeling guilty about not being able to do anything for her colleague while he was still alive and silently struggling during the war, as well as anger towards the late Headmaster, who hadn't let her in on any of the mess surrounding their war spy. She had made a visible effort to clear the late Professor Snape's reputation by giving statements on behalf of the school staff and by fighting for him to get some kind of recognition for the sacrafices he made.

After the war, Hermione had tried to continue living her life as normally as she could, without paying much of a thought to her late Professor. She had been devastated at the time, of course, being a witness to his horrible end, but the feeling had been mutual to all of the death she'd witnessed that atrocious day. For the last three years, she had been studying intensely, and had graduated last summer with well deserved honors. She had decided, as had many of her peers, that there would be no sense in waiting for Hogwarts to be reopened or attending to a different school for just a year. So, she had decided to continue her studies in a university, which she chose according to the subject she had found the most intriguing while still in Hogwarts. After graduating, she had sent an owl to Minerva after hearing about her decision to open Hogwarts again the coming fall. Minerva had been more than happy to welcome Hermione back, after all, she had been in desperate need for a Potions Professor after Slughorn's retirement.

Hermione had continued dating Ron after the war, their relationship being more on the account of need that want. They had both supported each other through the worst times after the war, but to this day, he still weren't the same after losing his brother. He would still wake up in the middle of the night, scaring Hermione out of her slumber, screaming his brothers name and struggling against the bed covers. These days, Hermione felt that their relationship seemed to base itself more on Ron's needs for her constant care taking rather than on a ground of mutual affections and support. Not to mention the lack of passion. However, there were good days when Ron would be his old silly self, giving her random kisses and surprising her by taking her to a lovely dinner. Those days, Hermione would be reminded how she really loved Ron, very dearly. After a year of dating, they had found a small flat together close to The Ministry of Magic, where Ron had went through a two-year training and was now working as a full time auror. Their living situation was about to change now, though, as Hermione had decided to return to Hogwarts, which meant she would be a permanent resident of the school for the coming year. Ron had been more than a little upset about her leaving him to his own devices for a great amount of time, but Hermione had insisted that this is what she really wanted, and that they would be seeing each other plenty. She didn't want to admit to herself that she was feeling oddly relieved about not having to keep a watch on his boyfriend 24/7.

Now, being back at Hogwarts, exactly one week before the students would be arriving, she found herself contemplating an issue she hadn't really given a thought before. Not only would she be occupying the same rooms as the traitor-branded Severus Snape had, but she was also finding it hard to fathom the unexpected feelings surrounding the very same fact. Right now, she felt quite unsettled by the thought. She had nothing against the Professor, hadn't had since she'd learned the truth about his actions during the war from what Harry had witnessed from his memories. In fact, if she were being totally honest, she'd always carried respect for him, even before the war, despite the way he had treated her and all of her friends. He had been an intelligent and a very powerful wizard after all, and who was Hermione to not be even slightly impressed by that.

 _But he was a foul bastard, remember?_

 _Yes, I am very much aware of that, thank you. But I always thought there must have been something under all that… bastardness._

 _You're right. Probably more bastardness._

 _Oh shut up, won't you. That is no way of talking about the dead. He deserves at least that much._

Frankly, she did feel bad for the fate that had fell upon him. If Hermione Granger believed in anything, it was in the fact that everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what. _Except maybe Voldemort,_ she reminded herself.

She hadn't even noticed between her distracted thoughts that at some point they had resumed walking, and she was now met by the heavy oak door which would lead her to her new living premises. They must've spent rest of their walk in silence, for she had been so deep in her musings, but that didn't seem to bother the Headmistress who had released her hand and was now looking at her with fresh concern marring her aging, nevertheless eloquent face. Hermione realised she had never replied, and tried to come up with something to say.

"I… I didn't realize… The books… I just assumed...", Hermione started, fiddling with the fabric of her robe sleeves while not meeting her colleagues eyes. "It makes perfect sense though", she managed to get out after struggling for a while, "I remember seeing him read during our classes, when we were busy doing our assignments on more than one occasion. And then there was the whole Half Blood Prince thing..."

Minerva turned her gaze to the corridor they had supposedly just walked from, as if waiting to see someone there. "Yes, he always was fond of reading, ever since he was a student here. I sometimes had to look out for him, or he would have fallen down the stairs or bumped onto walls, that's how far he had his nose stuck on his books", Minerva mused with a small nostalgic smile on her thin lips. She turned her gaze back to Hermione and added with another smile, which was filled with warmth, "Actually, I think you two would have made quite a team had you been students at the same time. Or even now as colleagues, had he…", she shook her head slowly before continuing, "Well, only Merlin knows".

That made Hermione respond with a small smile of her own. "Indeed, only Merlin knows".

Their eye contact remained for a bit longer, both knowing the complicated thoughts and emotions they shared towards the complicated spy.

Minerva finally broke the contact by reaching for the handle and letting them into the rooms.

They were met by darkness, and with a swish of her hand, Minerva lit up the torches lining the walls, igniting the dark space with warm coloring. Hermione studied the room with curious eyes. First impression was surprisingly inviting, despite the fact that most of the decorations were in Slytherin green. That was no wonder, the two previous residents had been the Heads of the very same house, after all.

 _But why not change them now? Surely it's weird to keep such things, when everything else in the castle had clearly been restored. Besides, the theme was hardly appropriate, since the next resident could have been from any house?_

Just as she was. The first thing she'd have to do would be to add some well needed Gryffindor red to her new living quarters. What caught her attention next was the expansive fireplace on the far right wall, now burning with fierce fire. She then took in the matching mahogany colored furnishing; the wide work table on the far left wall of the room, the small sitting area right in front of them with a sofa and two comfortable looking armchairs. She wondered for a brief moment if Professor Snape had been the one responsible for the elegantly matching furnishing. She hardly thought Professor Slughorn would have any eye for decorating, whatsoever. What struck her the most, however, was what she saw surrounding the room. Every single wall was covered with bookshelves, same matching mahogany, from the ground to the ceiling. The shelves were clearly overfilled, books piled side to side and on top of each other. An excited jolt went through her spine, she was going to enjoy roaming through those tomes immensely.

As if Minerva were able to read her thoughts, she commented, "Wait till you see the office, my dear, there's twice as many. Honestly, someone should go through all of them and decide which are worth saving."

Shooting a quick glance at the older woman's direction, she stepped forward to drag her hand across the back of the black leather sofa on her new sitting area. She turned back to Minerva, who was still standing by the door, and noticed a small drink cabinet right next to her.

"I'm sure you're exhausted by now, my dear. Let me show you your bedroom and bathroom, and I'll be out of your hair. You have your luggage with you, yes?", Minerva said nodding towards the wall behind her. Hermione spun around to find a door, which she hadn't seen at first and that would supposedly lead her to her bedrooms.

She turned back and nodded to Minerva. "Yes, I've got everything I need. Right... here", she said as she reached into her robe pocket and displayed three shrinked bags.

"Very well. If you would then…?" Minerva nodded as she made her way to the door and opened it for her.

The first thing she saw was a huge four poster bed in the middle of the room, against the far back. The same color theme was dominating the room, which was certainly not big, by all means, but was very convenient for her needs. It had two more bookshelves on the left wall as well as a smaller writing desk. On the right wall there were two drawers for clothing and another door, which would no doubt lead her to her restroom. There was a smaller fireplace on their left, on the wall that was separating the living room from her bedroom.

"I believe you will see to your nightly routine, then. Good night dear, I will see you tomorrow at eight o'clock in the Great Hall for the first staff meeting", as she spoke, Minerva had turned to leave, but halted her movement as she reached the door out of her new rooms. "Oh, and if you're hungry or need anything, the house elf responsible for the dungeons and the health of its residents goes by the name Lori. Good night now", and so she was out with a whirl of her robes.

Hermione took one more look around her and then closed the door of her bedroom, planning to get straight to bed. She placed her luggages on her bed, and took her wand out of her robe pocket to enlarge her belongings. She had taken with her one bag of clothing and some necessary stuff for her hygiene, one of her personal brewing equipment as well as teaching material,though she doubted she'd be needing any of those. The third bag was filled with some stuff to help her decorate the rooms for her liking and a legit amount of books.

She set her wand to the bedside table and grabbed her toilet bag and a lavender nightgown from her bag, ready to settle in for the night. She would have plenty of time to unpack her stuff and do some snooping around the next day after the staff meeting.

When she returned from the bathroom, which had a nice standing shower and was clean to her liking, she walked to her new bed and lifted the covers to discover clean bedsheets, no doubt made by the house elves. She lit the small fireplace for warmth and after settling in, she drew the covers up to her neck and closed her eyes. As she fell deeper in her slumber, she couldn't help but wonder if she was now occupying the exact same spot her raven haired professor once had. A cold shiver went through her body at that thought.

 _If you keep thinking about that kind of stuff you will never be able to sleep, you daft girl! Of course this is where he would have slept! Where else do you think he'd rather had laid his head? On the floor?_

She turned to lay on her side and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, as if shutting herself from her eerie thoughts. Of course there would be no way of doing that. The problem with having a brilliant brain was that there was no way of shutting it down. Ever.

This was certainly going to be a long night for her.

 **A/N Thank you for reading, I'd appreciate your thoughts on my story! Until next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2: Confusion

**A/N Hey! Decided to post the second chapter a bit earlier. Hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

Severus Snape leaned back in his armchair as he closed the large book currently occupying his lap. This was the fourth time he'd read through that specific one, and not because it was particularly interesting, but because he simply had nothing else to do. He reached for his glass of firewhiskey from the sitting area's table, drinking down the half full glass in just one gulp. His face didn't even twitch. It wouldn't have made any difference if he had been downing water instead. Despite that, he soon stood up and walked to his liquor cabinet, intending to refill his glass. It was more out of a habit than sheer will.

When he had closed his eyes in the Shrieking Shack on that fateful day, for what he thought would be his last time, he'd come to wake up from his bed in his dungeons in Hogwarts, just like any other morning in the past. For a few blissful moments, he had believed all the events of the war to be a nightmare, and that he would soon get up for another day of tormenting those insufferable students. As he exited his dungeons, however, he soon discovered that there would be no students to teach. _He was all alone._ After what felt like hours running headlessly around the old castle, he gave up his hope about finding anyone inside, and had tried to leave the premises. To his utter befuddlement, every time he would try to pass the front gates, he would black out and wake up again in his bed.

Ever since that day, he had found himself living in this dream-like state. The scenery he had been occupying for Merlin knows how long, was, according to his own explorations, limited to an eerie reminiscent of the Hogwarts castle, which included every single detail down to his personal quarters. He found that it also held the very same books he had been collecting for years, which he couldn't help but feel somewhat glad about. But something there was definitely terribly off.

Anyone who had known him, or even met him, for that matter, would have thought he would enjoy such solitude. And he probably would have, if it weren't for the fact that he was not able to taste, smell or physically feel anything. It felt like his previously sharp senses were now covered with a grey mass, preventing him to fully receive any sensations, no matter how strong. Thus, the firewhiskey he had once consumed a great amount to suffocate his overly acute senses no longer offered the peaceful numbness he had desired. Not that he presently desired any more of that numbness.

And if he were to be honest, it did bother him on some level to be left all alone as well. Even though he had been known for his great dislike towards the company offered by others, he now found himself longing for some form of communication, even such as picking a row with somebody.

He had determined with an uncharacteristic optimism to not let the solitude bother him too much, however, and had found ways to spend his days. He'd spent them roaming the extensive yards of Hogwarts, going through his impressive book collection and learning some new skills, such as simple pencil sketching and playing the piano he had found once from the choir's practise room on the fourth floor.

To his horror, he soon discovered he weren't able to use any magic. That meant his favorite way of spending his free time, which was brewing, was off the limits. He had the equipment, some of the ingredients and labs, but not the magic. He thought it could have been worse, though. At least he was a halfblood and could manage with some muggle methods to cope as well. Nevertheless, he still kept his wand with him wherever he went, if just for the illusion of safety.

The worst thing about being trapped in this place, to his mind, was the utter confusion he was experiencing. He had never been accustomed to feeling confused or caught of guard while he had still been alive. His constant state of alertness, sharp senses and a habit of doing random research from time to time had made sure of that. And on the rare occasion he hadn't been privy to some information, he would have been sure to do the necessary research immediately.

Now he found himself, for the first time in his miserable existence, having more questions than answers. He didn't feel completely dead but he certainly wasn't alive. He was trapped somewhere in between.

But then again, he couldn't come to understand how he could be anything but dead either. He had seen for himself the lethal attack of the Dark Lord's familiar. He had felt the fangs of the obnoxious creature sink into his throat and spread its venom to his fear consumed body. He had heard the quiet sighs of horror around him from the people witnessing his death. He had been there for it all, and was still questioning his demise.

 _Was this truly where he would be spending an eternity? Would he be doomed to be alone, unable to feel anything for the remaining of time?_

A spark that was fading more rapidly each passing day was telling him this simply couldn't be it. And yet, here he was, clueless as ever, brooding the same thoughts for what must be the hundredth time, as he brought the fresh glass full of firewhiskey to his lips and leaned against a bookshelf behind his back. He silently cursed the gods who had yet again managed to find a creative way to kick him straight into his bollocks. It seemed not even death could bring him the final peace he so desired.

The last moment he recalls before finally closing his eyes while still on earth was seeing the Potter boy clasping his neck while clearly trying to figure out what to say. As he had stared into the eyes of the boy-who-lived, he was reminded of the woman those eyes had belonged to long before he had been born. _Sweet, sweet Lily._

With the alluring thought of being able to see her again in a matter of seconds, he had finally let go.

 _And yet, here he was, with no soul in sight._

 ** _A/N Please leave your thoughts!_**


	3. Chapter 3: Lost and found

**A/N Hi again! Thank you for all the reviews, I really appreciate them! They inspire me to keep on writing ;) Hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

Hermione was taming her hair when a random glance at a clock on her bedroom wall made her jolt. It was already five to eight, and she would still have to manage up from the depths of the dungeons for her first staff meeting at eight sharp. She had been so concentrated on untangling her logs, while simultaneously frowning at her reflection in the mirror on top of her bedroom drawer, that she hadn't realised how fast the time had gone by.

She sprinted for the her bedroom door only to turn on her heels to fetch her wand, which was currently resting on her bedside table. As she turned back for the door, with her wand securely in her palm, her feet were suddenly met by her luggage, which she had left lying open on the floor last night while in haste to just get to bed as quickly as possible. Her knees hit the floor first, the heels of her hands following next as she hissed her displeasure at the hard contact.

" _Oh bugger me!"_ , she cursed after she'd made a hasty damage check on herself, noting the slight redness on her palms. Her wand had also rolled under the bed as her hands had opened to receive her weight.

She bend down to retrieve her wand, but was met by something bigger, softer instead. She grabbed the object and pulled her hand back from under the bed to discover a book covered in black leather. It was unlike the ones she'd seen covering the walls, for sure, but a book nonetheless. To her confusion, the book had no title on it, but had two golden letters instead, 'SS', on the bottom right corner of the front cover. She ran her index finger across the cursive, feeling the exquisite golden imprint and the leather beneath her finger, soft but unyielding. It peaked her interest, such mysterious object, and she decided she would have to look into it more closely later.

She glanced back at the clock to find it already past eight, and sprang to her feet with the book on her hand. She remembered her wand was still somewhere under the bed and bend again with another agitated huff.

 _Way to go Hermione. It's not like it's your first day or anything._

When she was finally ready to go she glanced at the book and decided she would rather take it with her than lose it in the mess that was her partly unpacked belongings. She cast a spell to shrink it to fit in her robe pocket, and was finally on her way to her very first meeting, fashionably late.

* * *

As the meeting went on, Hermione found herself bored to death.

When she finally had arrived at the Great Hall good ten minutes late, she had been met by surprisingly welcoming faces from the staff. She had stolen a quick glance at Minerva, slightly frowning as a way of an apology, as she sat down on the last available seat next to Professor Sprout at the end of the table. All the staff she remembered from her school days were here, with the exception of the few obvious. It was oddly comforting to see the familiar faces of Professor Flitwick, Sprout, Vector and Trelawney as well as Madame Hooch and Pomfrey. Even Hagrid was there to welcome her with a big grin of his own.

There were two new faces among them as well, a tall lean man introduced to her as Professor Lucas Flemington, a new Transfiguration Master to cover up for Minerva, as well as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor slash the new Head of the Slytherin House, Ursula Holt. Her appearance was, to Hermione's opinion, slightly too extra, and safe to say a bit weird as well. The contrast between her chocolate skin and long white hair, made Hermione wonder if the Malfoys had more family somewhere in the South.

Currently, with Minerva twenty minutes into her speech, Hermione found herself extremely restless. She had heard this speech, with few alterations of course, in the beginning of every year when the old Head of her House had wanted to remind her students of all the rules the had while school. Now, the same speech was aimed for the teachers. Professor Sprout had made several long looks towards her direction in an attempt to question her writhing, but was met every time with a small awkward smile as a confirmation that everything was, indeed, fine.

Hermione leaned back on her chair when she suddenly remembered what she had hidden inside the pocket of her robes. She slowly drew the tiny book as well as her wand out, and made the wordless charm to enlarge it to its normal size. She turned the book a couple times in her hands, while making sure all the staff members were concentrating on the Headmistress's lecture. The two golden letters caught her attention again, as she wondered what meaning the book might bear. She decided there would be only one way to find out, and after checking it for any protective spells, she tried opening the the first pages. The book did open without a protest, indeed, but to her disappointment, all the pages were seemingly empty. She went through each and every one, not finding a single word that could indicate what this book might be about. She closed the book and with furrowed eyebrows continued to examine the two golden letters as though they could suddenly form an answer for her. Then a thought came to her.

 _Could it_ _ **really**_ _be his?_

 _Well, what else could 'SS' stand for? Huh? Super secret? Or maybe Sneaky Snake? C'mon, remember where you found it._

 _Yes, I suppose it would make sense… Hmm.. Severus Snape…_

She came to the conclusion that the book had probably been his new diary, which he never got to start before the final battle had happened… Well, anyways, she had to admit to being a bit surprised. She never took him as the writer type, but then again, he had already surprised her with his well hidden eye for decorating. She was learning new things about her ex-Professor, and was more than a little curious of what else she could find out. She made a mental note of having to check the bookshelves for any of his old, full diaries, nosy snooper as she was.

As exciting as the prospect of learning something new was for her, it didn't lessen the boredom that was currently eating her very soul. She was a tad disappointed to not have found the book to be a novel, since reading would've certainly made the staff meeting more bearable. She was about to excuse herself to the bathrooms, intending to sneak a peaceful walk around the corridors instead, when another thought came to her mind.

She raised her wand slightly, and transfigured a pin she found in her robe pocket into a quill, which didn't require refilling. She opened the book again and rested her hand against the first blank page, intending to fill out the empty space. She had no idea what she was doing, since she'd never had a knack for a hobby, that included any form of actually having to draw something, nevermind doodle. She pressed her quill onto the paper several times, leaving behind splotches of ink, as she tried to come up with something to draw. Then inspiration hit her, and she began to work.

* * *

Severus Snape had just settled into his bed with an old tome after enjoying a glass of pumpkin juice as his breakfast. He had never been too keen on eating, and wouldn't certainly change that now, even though he had discovered that he could get any form of sustenance from the kitchen of his current residence, the exact replica of Hogwarts. No matter how much he consumed the storage's, he would always find them full the next time he was in need of something to consume.

 _A real dream come true for someone like Mister Weasley, no doubt_ , he supposed, as he'd seen him devour plates full of goodies during their joint mealtimes while still in Hogwarts.

In actuality, he'd had some hard time trying to wrap his fingers around the idea of something like that happening. Not the gluttony of one Mister Weasley, that was hardly a wonder when living under Mrs Weasley's roof, but how he was not able to use magic here, yet magical things seemed to happen around him. Just like the seemingly infinite food supplies. He had no idea how long he had been here, but was sure that no amount of food that could fit in only two fridges and one freezer could be enough, even for him, for what felt like years of time.

 _Perhaps this_ _**is**_ _my afterlife._

He had found out during the first time when the surreal surroundings had come too much for him to bear, that killing himself would do no help. He had hoped that maybe offing himself would finally grant him the access to the dark quietude, which he would certainly prefer over this insufferable place he was now referring as 'the between world', as he felt like he was trapped between two worlds. But he had been wrong to hope it would be that simple. No matter how creative he had gotten with trying find his loophole out of there, he always found himself back where he was now, still in the premises of that damned castle.

He flipped the first page open as he came back from his queasy thoughts, intending to get immersed into his reading. He had taken a liking to enjoying the art of poetry again, now that he had the time to read something purely for his enjoyment.

He was in the middle of reading the second poem of the book, when he was distracted by a bright light flashing from inside his bedside table's drawer. His first reaction had been to reach for his wand, which was laid on that very same table, but he rose up instead, throwing his bare feet of the bed. Magic would not help him now. Not here.

A small spark of something almost lost to him went through his body as he reached for the handle. He hadn't yet seen anything happen here on it's own accord, everything that _had_ happened had been somehow caused by him.

Carefully, as if afraid the light might go out and leave him to his own devices once again, he slid the drawer open. The amount of light almost blinded him, as he tried to figure out what was the source of the blaze. Suddenly the light went out for a few seconds, only to reveal a black leather book he recognized as his diary. The pages of the book, which was where the light was coming from, lit up again, just as brightly as before. He reached to grab the book, with his brows furrowed, the lines on his face intensifying.

He had come across his diary when he first went through everything he could upon arriving there, but hadn't really paid it any thought after that, other than putting it into a safe place. He hadn't dared to continue writing, which he'd enjoyed immensely while alive, since he was afraid he'd go way too deep in his unsafe thoughts.

But now, for a brief second, he considered that writing again wouldn't be as bad of an idea.

The book flashed again, and he opened up the first page with caution. In great favor for his eyes, the light dimmed as soon as he opened the book. There were three visible black splotches of ink on the first page, which left him more than a tad confused. He didn't remember starting this one while still alive. The weeks leading to the final battle of the war had been too intense for him to have time to gather his own thoughts, let alone write about them.

He jolted as several lines started forming into the same page, at first without a clear pattern, and then suddenly starting to create the form of a human.

He stared at the book in awe, a selection of strong feelings he didn't remember experiencing in a very long time going through his mind. But the most shocking of them was the tiny spark of hope, which he hadn't felt in a very long time, even while still alive.

As he watched the figure gaining more personal characteristics, he started recognizing some familiar attributes of someone he used to know. Clearly an elder witch with a pointy hat, long robes, and a face with stern wrinkles. He gasped as the realization settled in on who this caricature was representing.

 _What in the name of Merlin..._

Although the creator of the drawing couldn't be a very trained artist, there was no doubt he was looking at an image of one Minerva McGonagall.

He noticed his hands had started to shake at some point, while trying to hold tightly on to the book. He was puzzled about so many things at the same time and was struggling to form a coherent reaction to what was happening.

 _What_ _ **was**_ _happening? Was this some cruel form of magic messing with him again, making him believe he might not be all alone after all? And why on earth was he staring at a spitting image of his old colleague? Who was drawing this? And more importantly,_ _ **how**_ _?_

With the last question in mind, he settled into finding out just that.

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 **A/N Soon getting to the good stuff!**


	4. Chapter 4: The first staff meeting

**A/N Thank you so much for you reviews! They really warm my heart!**

 **Ugh I need to start with apologizing about this delay! I had my finals and lots of stuff to do for school, and to be honest, I needed to write this chapter a few times over before I was satisfied. I will be updating (hopefully) more frequently now that my break has started, but I make no promises. I'm a perfectionist and I want to offer the best of my abilities.**

 **Now, before we get started, I need to clarify few things. Some of you have mentioned the similarities to the Riddle diary incident, which definitely hasn't went by my notice. We will definitely be addressing that on more than one occasions in the future. With that being said, as I see it, Hermione is an intelligent and foolishly brave Gryffindor, who just sometimes can't stop herself from satisfying her curiosity, even if it meant compromising her own safety.**

 **Secondly, about the place where Severus is. I just want to give you a bit of a warning. I want to make this story as 'believable' as I can, but seeing as we are in a magical world, there seems to be very few boundaries on what can and can't be done with magic, and I hope I've found a believable loop hole. Severus' "limbo" might not exactly be the same we've seen in DH with Harry and Dumbledore. I've created what I've imagined to be one sort of limbo, so it might not be true to your version or J.K Rowlings for that matter. That's all I'm saying for now, just clearing things up.**

 **I appriciate all of you taking the time to read my story, so a huuuuge thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 4

Hermione chuckled quietly in content, looking down at the outcome of her boredom. She definitely didn't possess any undiscovered gifts for the visual arts, but nevertheless couldn't help feeling a tiny bit pleased about her newest accomplishment.

The tiny ink Headmistress McGonagall was staring at her with a severe scowl from the first page, mimicking the real one's current posture which hadn't altered in the last fifteen minutes. She found her stance even more rigid than what was normal for the stern but warmhearted Professor. It was caused by Professor Holt, who had been giving her a hard time for a while now by asking about the benefits their school could offer to her as one of their teachers. This clearly wasn't to McGonagall's liking, thus the harsh grimace on her face.

Hermione's small dose of amusement didn't go unnoticed, though, as soon Professor Sprout was leaning over to her side to sneak a peek on what was making the younger witch squirm so. Hermione caught her intentions soon enough, and snapped the book shut before the Herbology teacher could chance seeing what would surely cause an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Knowing the ever-so-cheery Professor, it would definitely bring some unwanted attention with it.

Hermione smiled an apologetic smile, and the older woman huffed in a playful annoyance, bored to the brink of dead herself as well, no doubt.

She wasn't completely in the clear yet, it seemed, as the book suddenly lit up in a brilliant blaze. Hermione let out a small yelp of surprise, as she tried to cover the light emitting from the book on her lap with her robes. The effort seemed to be for vain, as the Headmistress turned her head along with all other Professors, abandoning the sentence she had been in the middle of, to look curiously at her lap and then at her startled features.

"Professor Granger, it seems you have something more interesting over there than Professor Holt's inquisitions," the Headmistress drawled, shooting an aggravated glance towards the older Professor she'd mentioned, before continuing, "Care to… Shed a light, forgive the pun, to your current situation?" She was clearly not bothered by the interruption, since the living standards of the new Professor seemed to be impossible to meet.

Hermione replied with a sheepish smile, a wave of redness making itself known on her soft cheeks. After a moment of the most awkward silence, she thought it would be better not to leave the Headmistress without an answer and improvised.

"Pardon me, Professors, it's just that there seems to be something wrong with my wand", she said, pulling said object from where it had been resting on the chair next to her thigh, while using a wordless spell that made the tip flash with bright light. At the same time she managed to push the book down under her chair, the light now mixing conveniently with the bright morning sun shining from the big windows of the Great Hall.

The Headmistress was not impressed by her attempt to clearly cover something, but let it slip just this once. She raised one of her eyebrows, however, in a matter that was very familiar to the young Gryffindor and which let her know she hadn't been fooled by her little show.

The Headmistress then resumed to her original speech, taking her opportunity to ignore the rest of Professor Holt's questions.

When everyone's attentions were back on the Headmistress, Hermione let out the breath she had been holding and gazed down to where the book currently laid. With her feet, she wiggled the book from under her chair to in front of her legs under the table. She tried various wordless spells to dim the light still flashing brightly from the book, but to no avail.

 _What on earth? Was there something wrong with her ink? There shouldn't be… There's nothing extraordinary with her ink, nor with the quill for that matter. But the book…_

With as subtle movements as she could manage, she spread the book open with her feet. The instant the front cover hit the floor, spreading the book wide open, the light was diminished.

She sighed in relief, and went to levitate the book back into her lap with her wand.

The relief was shortly lived, though, as she noticed something on the very same page she had earlier drawn to, a writing that was certainly not made by her hand.

She gasped in shock, and averted her gaze quickly from the book on her lap. Her eyes scanned the room rapidly, as if making sure no one around her was playing tricks on her. After she'd been reassured by the same fatigued expression occupying everyone's face, indicating that they were all oblivious to what was going on, she returned to examine the mysterious writing more closely.

It read, ' _What is this? I insist you reveal your identity and how you're invading my diary?'_

Her eyes widened to plates as her brain suddenly recognized the unmistakably familiar handwriting. It was one she had previously been used to seeing in red color all over her assignments while still a student herself at Hogwarts.

 _It can't be, can it?_

 _But the handwriting… It's the same, no doubt. I've never seen anyone with the same kind of cursive as his. It always was a distinct one, spiky and well refined._

"Professor Snape", she whispered unconsciously aloud, brows furrowed to the point of nearly crushing against each other.

 _Yes, but are you perhaps forgetting something? He's dead. Has been for years. How on earth could it possibly be him?_

She blinked slowly as she read the text over carefully several more times, letting the message sink in. While shocked to the core at the discovery, her over-analytic mind was already ramming through all possible scenarios about what it was about.

 _What **is** this? Had she somehow managed to sent her drawing to her late Professor without realizing it? How was **that** possible? She wasn't aware of a spell which would let her communicate through a book, and what's more, with someone definitely dead._

 _But... what if it wasn't about **her** magic?_

Hermione's face got two shades paler, her sudden realization making a chilly shiver go through her spine. One frighteningly similar, horrifying event from her second year in Hogwarts had made itself known to her.

 _What if it's another diary like Tom Riddle's? Oh dear god, what if it's_ _ **his**_ _? No,_ _ **he**_ _couldn't possibly be behind this. Harry defeated **him**. They had destroyed the Horcruxes. She had been there for the whole show. There's not a damn thing left of that soulless imp in this world, or in any other, for that matter._

She sighed, pressing her two fingers onto her right temple, feeling a headache forming rapidly.

 _Besides, that wouldn't explain her late Professor's handwriting… Surely_ _**he**_ _wouldn't have been able to create a Horcrux like Voldemort did. We saw his memories, his motives. He wasn't that vile or murderous. He wouldn't have been able to split his soul._

 _But who was this then, if not him? It was supposedly his old diary, after all._

Hermione was torn between her overworking, curious mind, which was begging for her to find out who was trying to reach her, and her reasoning, which was telling her to hex the book into pieces.

 _But what if it really is him? What if he'd managed to find a way to communicate with the living? If he's within reach, could it mean they could contact other demised people as well? What if they'd be able to converse with the dead?_

 _Now **there's** an idea._

Her eyes sparked with heightened curiosity. Anyone who knew Hermione Jean Granger even a bit, would know it wise to stay within a reasonable distance from her when that glint made itself known.

 _For the greater good,_ the Gryffindor in her decided, and she grasped her quill and let it hover above the mysterious message, thinking about her reply.

'It's called a doodle. And pardon me, but I am not relaying that information before you do. I'm fine with staying anonymous', she wrote, and closed the book.

Their meeting had apparently been wrapped up, as Professors were one by one getting up and moving towards the breakfast buffet.

She quickly decided she'd have time to get breakfast later, maybe summon something down to her quarters. The book was now requiring her full attention. She rose to her feet, hid the book to her armpit and started towards the doorway.

Before she could stomp off to the corridors, however, Minerva's voice rang out, stern but layered with surprise. " Surely you aren't foregoing breakfast, Miss Granger, are you? You must be famished after our meeting."

Hermione halted on her feet, and turned her head sideways, eyeing the elder witch now catching up with her.

"I'm sorry Professor, I'm afraid I am. There are some things I must attend to", she uttered, and as the Headmistress raised her chin to retort she quickly continued, "Such as finishing my unpacking. I'll be sure to ask some food from the elves. Lori, was her name, wasn't it?"

Minerva regarded her silently for a moment, and then gave a slow nod, accepting her excuse.

Just as Hermione had disappeared around the first corner, the book flashed again with the bright light it had shone with just a few minutes ago. Instead of fumbling this time, she opened the book as fast as she could, hoping it would work as it did the first time.

The light did indeed dim, and her attention was drawn to the same page as before.

'Yes, I am sure you are. However, seeing as it is _you_ who has no business to be in _my_ diary, I think I deserve a straight answer. Now, out with it.'

Even after reading as much of the writer's words as she had, she certainly couldn't cross out the possibility of this being her old Potions Professor. It seemed very like him to be just as grim and straight to the point as he'd been with his students while still alive, even as dead. You'd think a person would be more considerate if they'd discovered a way from the afterlife to the world of living. Death certainly hadn't changed him, if that was to be the case.

She closed the book, deciding it'd be safer for her to reply when in the safety of her rooms.

 _Listen to yourself, you daft girl. Don't you think it'd be more logical to assume you were talking with someone... hmm...let's see... maybe less dead?_ , her common sense berated her as she ran towards her rooms. She chose to ignore it, though, being more excited about the possibility of talking to the dead.

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After closing the door to her quarters, she sprinted to her vast desk in her sitting room. She was reminded again by the vivid green colors around her that it did, indeed, need a makeover as soon as possible.

She sat down and spread the book in front of her, pulling her quill from her robe pocket, in a haste to reply.

After a while of pondering how to proceed, she let her quill fly over the paper with swift motions.

'This is Hermione Granger, a Professor at the Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft', she wrote, deciding to go with a formal reply in case her guesses were proved false. She had little doubt they would, though, seeing as the book and writing were supposedly his.

 _But how this was possible, was another matter._

She started to twirl the quill between her fingers, biting her lip as she waited anxiously for the response.

Doubts started soon evade her mind as the reply prolonged. Should she be doing this by herself, after all? She should've told someone about this... What she had discovered. What if it was some sort of Dark Magic, something dangerous?

Before she could change her mind, a reply came.

'I see. And now, how are you contacting me?'

She exhaled loudly enough for the people in Hogsmeade to hear.

"Demanding all the answers, _I see_ " _,_ she said aloud in a mocking tone. With a new response in mind, she set her quill down to respond with a determination to confirm who she was writing to.

'I believe it's only fair for you to answer my question first. Who are you?', she put her quill down.

She continued to sooth her own nerves by thinking she was only one floo away from the Headmistress's quarters if something were to go wrong, as the reply came.

'This is Severus Snape'

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat without her notice as her speculation was confirmed true. She lifted her gaze from the diary to stare straight ahead, and let the statement sink in.

 _It is him._

 _Well, it could still be someone playing a prank on you. It's not that uncommon, you know. And do I even have to remind you again, **he's dead.**_

Her head was fuzzing with so many mixed thoughts and emotions, and she had a hard time grasping any of them. The fear of something potentially dangerous along with her desperate need to know everything were clearly two of the strongest, though. If this really was him, it would be a revelation for the Wizarding World to be able to converse someone already beyond the veil.

She refused to believe that someone was pranking her in such a manner, and after so many years. She decided to believe him until proved otherwise, but to still remain wary.

She shook her head slowly, and replied.

'If I may be frank, it is quite a shock to hear from you, sir. I believe I found your diary yesterday. Regarding to your question, I have no idea how I reached you, I simply found this book and drew on it. I had hoped you'd have the answer for that.'

She twirled the end of her quill around her lips, giving into her eagerness and adding, 'Is it really you? The dead Severus Snape? Sir, where _exactly_ are you?'

Numerous questions were flying through her mind as she tried to come up with alternatives about how they were doing what they were doing. It didn't help her to know that a mind as brilliant as his hadn't yet been able to come up with an answer, though.

It was not too long before an answer interrupted her thoughts.

'Indeed, this really is "the dead Severus Snape", as you so eloquently decided to put it. Although, I have little doubt you've already put that together, seeing as you've stolen a diary with my initials in the first place. I don't have enough time or patience, however, for any more questions. I need to ask you for a favor, Miss Granger, and I hope you will comply. Who's your new Headmaster?'

She couldn't say she wasn't a tad disappointed when he'd outright denied her the answers she now found herself yearning for, but ignored his bite, focusing on a clearly more urgent matter than her insatiable curiosity. She responded, 'Minerva McGonagall, sir. And I did not technically steal your book, I believe I found it from _my_ new rooms left by you after... you know. And for what it's worth, I didn't initially know it was your diary.'

The first two pages were now full, and she had to turn to the next one to see his reply.

'It's much more than just a book, Miss Granger, and seeing as you're occupying my old dungeons, I assume you're the new Potions Mistress? That is a fairly interesting turn of events, I must confess. Anyhow, back to my request. I must insist you deliver this book to the Headmistress this instant. I need to speak with her. '

Hermione huffed, annoyed by his dismissive treatment of her. If this really was him, you'd think he'd be more excited about the prospect of talking to _anyone_ on earth, even her. She did understand his insistence on talking to McGonagall, though. Surely she would know better than her about how to proceed with something like this. One concern did came to her when she started to think more about it, and decided to express it to him.

'Sir, with all due respect, I don't know if that's wise. I want to believe it's you, but Minerva is much harder to convince than I am. I'm afraid upon seeing a clearly enchanted book it would make her extra cautious, given the incident years back involving similar settings. She would be sending it to the Ministry of Magic sooner than I could convince her otherwise. There, it would be locked up in the Department of Mysterious Magical Objects waiting for a thorough investigation. I'm afraid it could take years for the book to see the daylight after that. More to the point, I suppose you haven't found any other way of communicating with us, the living I mean?'

The reply came faster than she'd expected.

'Miss Granger, I am well aware of that risk. I must still ask you to turn this book to Minerva. I know a thing or two about how to get her _convinced_. And thank you for reminding me there are less gullible people in the Wizarding World than you, it brings me some comfort knowing there might be hope for the next generations. Now, if you will.'

He clearly insisted on speaking with the Headmistress, but he didn't have to insult her when she'd only been thinking about _his_ welfare.

 _Are you sure that's all you've had on your mind, though? That you're only after his welfare and it has absolutely nothing to do with the_ _chance of getting to study a new, possibly undiscovered form of magic firsthand?_

She huffed in annoyance to the voice of her conscience, and eventually succumbed to his will. She didn't leave without answering him first, 'Very well, sir. I hope she will be able to help you.'

She then shut the book, and after collecting it in her hands, she headed up for the Headmistress' office.

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 **Thanks for reading! Leave a review, pretty please! x**


	5. Chapter 5: The Headmistress

**A/N Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter. I'm sorry for making you wait, I'm really frustrated with myself for not making more time to write. My finals are coming and it's been crazy busy preparing for them. I do want you to know that even if there is some time between my updates, I will NEVER abandon this story! I have it entirely planned out and it will some day be published as a complete piece. Thanks for your patience! I also want to thank you all who took the time to review my story! It really means the world to me.**

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Chapter 5

Hermione soon found herself at the entrance to the Headmistress' quarters, the mysterious book safely tucked under her arm. She took one last calming breath before muttering the password she vaguely remembered hearing in the beginning of the morning's staff meeting, (lynx lynx), and started up the stone stairs as the gargoyle moved from her way.

She had the time to knock twice before the door was opened by none other than the Headmistress herself.

"Hermione, dear, how are you? Is everything alright?", the older woman asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Hermione nodded quickly before speaking. "Yes Headmistress, everything's quite alright. I do have something urgent, however. May I come in?", she peered into the office, unsure if she was welcome at the moment.

"Well, yes," the older witch said glancing about her office, before adding, "of course Hermione. And please, it's Minerva, remember?", she told her, indicating with a wave of her hand to step in.

Hermione smiled and walked past her to sit on the chair in front of Minerva's desk, while the witch in an emerald robe took the seat she had been vacating for most of the day, no doubt, judging by the amount of parchment piled on her desk

"What brings you here? I assume you've already made yourself at home in your new quarters, yes?", Minerva started, crossing her fingers on top of the table.

Hermione unconsciously squeezed the book under her arm, which was still seemingly undiscovered by the Headmistress. Or if it wasn't, she assumed Minerva knew her well enough to not be shocked if she was seen with a book.

"The quarters have been perfect, Minerva, thank you for your concern. Funny you should bring that up, as it is something concerning my quarters that I came to talk to you about. More specifically, what I found from there."

Minerva pursed her lips into a tight line before asking, "I see, and what might that be?"

She knew the young girl well enough to identify the glimmer of unfulfilled curiosity laying behind her chocolate brown eyes. That was always a dangerous thing to spot.

Hermione glanced at her right arm, under where the book lay, and brought it onto the table for the older witch to inspect. She didn't let go of it entirely, however, and kept her hands on top of it in a guarding manner.

"What is this?", Minerva asked after eyeing the object for a moment, frowning in growing confusion.

Hermione tightened her hold on the book before continuing cautiously. "It's a book I found from my room, Professor, but before I disclose any more information concerning this book, I need you to promise me you will listen to all I have to say before taking any course of action."

 _Merlin help her if she's already found herself in trouble,_ the Headmistress thought. She nodded slowly, giving the younger Gryffindor the affirmation she needed to continue.

Under the Headmistress' stern gaze, Hermione could feel her pulse quickening. She had exactly one change to convince her, and she needed to do it right.

"You see, Professor, I found this book yesterday from under my bed, by an accident. At first I thought it was a regular book, just lost from where it should've been, seeing as that would be the most likely case. With closer inspection, though, I found it to be a bit more peculiar than that. You see, there was no writing inside it, no title, whatsoever. Only these golden letters," she ran her fingers across the letters to emphasize her point, "and that made me think, what are these kinds of books usually for-" Hermione was cut off when the Headmistress gave a deep sigh and straightened herself on her chair.

"Hermione, you're babbling. You've found a diary, that's wonderful. If you're wondering whether you're permitted to use it as your own, be my quest. For what it matters to be, evrrything you find from that room is yours. I'm sorry to tell you that if that's all you're here for I really should concentrate on more pressing matters, if you know what I mean", she said, glancing at her evident load of work.

Hermioine straightened in her chair, mirroring the older woman's pose. "No, Minerva, that's not what I'm here for. Just... please let me continue", Hermione pleaded, annoyed at being interrupted.

After receiving a skeptical glance but no objections, she took it as a positive sign and continued even more cautiously. "The thing is, Minerva, it was empty when I found it, but not anymore. Here, let me show you", Hermione opened the second page of the book, trying to hide the less than flattering double of the older Gryffindor, and showing her only the last page she had written onto.

Minerva leaned forward onto her elbows to inspect the text. "What is this supposed to be? I'm sorry dear but I have no interest in taking a peek into your internal world", the older witch retorted, pushing her glasses higher on her slender nose.

Hermione blushed and huffed in annoyance, pointing to the spiky handwriting, making her point clear. "Do you recognize the handwriting, ma'am?"

After a brief glance towards the younger witch, Minerva inspected the script more carefully. "Yes, this one's clearly yours, and then this one…", her voice faded away as what Hermione hoped was realization washed over her, leaving her eyes the size of two plates and her mouth wide open.

"W-what is the meaning of this?", the woman managed to get out, "Is this one of his diaries? How come...", the witch was left again speechless, mouth wide open gaping at the book.

Hermione knew instantly the older witch had figured out of whom this was about. Something caught her attention in the Headmistress' initial reaction.

"What do you mean _one_ of his diaries?", Hermione inquired, subconsciously running her fingers across the leather book.

"He... H-he had a habit of writing some sort of journals, I think. Yes, I remember seeing him scribbling something down to a book not unlike the one you have there, more than on just one occasion, during our faculty meetings and such. At the time I thought he'd been making notes, which I did find amusing considering his evident dislike towards anything that had to do with teaching. Now, come to think of it, it only seems logical for him to write down his thoughts, seeing as he was the Master Spy of our age. It's no wonder he'd have to keep track of his actions and thoughts in a position like his."

The witch's gaze had averted to something on the back of the room as she whispered barely audibly, "Could it really be him?".

"It's _him_ , Professor. I have been talking to _him_. And you're not to be worried!", she exclaimed as the older witch suddenly leaned back on her chair, eyes still wide from shock, resting her hand on her forehead. "Nothing you should be worried about has happened. We've only been writing for a short while, and I've been careful with how I've approached this... thing. I think we have a reason to believe there might be something going on, something more than just a book writing by itself."

Hermione watched the older witch show clear signs of internal struggle, before she relaxed, although a fraction. "Since when has this been going on? I wish you would have told me the minute you saw something abnormal was going on. If something like this were to occur while students were under our roof I expect you to immediatly inform me. It's not only for your safety but ours as well."

Hermione couldn't help the blush of feeling guilty brought out of her. She pulled the book back to herself before explaining further. "It's only been going on since this morning, Minerva. I was as stunned as you were the first time I saw this happen! I was just dood… writing on the first page, when the book flashed in a blinding light and-"

"You mean what was going on this morning in our meeting?", the Headmistress asked.

"Yes"

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd react. And I wasn't sure what this was about, honestly. I'm not sure if I know it now either, but I'm sure as Merlin going to figure that out. Please, Professor, read what we've discussed up until now", the witch said, pushing the book back towards the older witch.

Minerva scanned the few pages, too concentrated (or deeming it not the most urgent issue at play) to pay focus on Hermione's doodle, fortunate for her. After she'd finished scanning the pages, she looked up from the book, her face unreadable.

Hermione found the following silence excruciating to bear. The older witch was switching her gaze between the book and the young bushy haired teacher, studying both with equal firmness. The younger witch was just about to add something in her defence, when the older witch spoke, more calmly than Hermione had expected.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for bringing the book to my attention. I shall look in to it more closely and see what it's about. Your input in this matter is no longer needed, this book is now in safe hands", the Headmistress was about to take the book onto her own hands, when she was stopped by the younger Gryffindor's strong tug.

Hermione was not satisfied with her employer's answer. It seemed she had not managed to convince her of the book's potential significance, and she feared that after she left the room the book was going to get hexed six ways to Sunday.

Inwardly shuddering at the thought of letting such an interesting object go to waste, she decided to try once more.

"Professor, please, be sure to _really_ look into it, would you? I wouldn't say this if I didn't really mean it, but I have a feeling about this, a feeling that tells me something with significance is going on. You can't just let it slip. Promise me you'll really try to find out what's going on?"

Hermione's pleading gaze was enough to make the Headmistress yield in her own doubt filled mind, and the younger Gryffindor could see a change in her ardour as she bowed her head as a yes.

"Miss Granger, Hermione. I promise to find out what I can to the best of my abilities. If this indeed has something to do with Sev-Severus," the woman swallowed before continuing, " I owe him as much. Now off with you, I better make some standard charms to see if there's any real danger to this peculiarity."

When Hermione made no attempt to move, and instead just stared at the book, the Headmistress added, "I shall inform you if I were to find something I deem worth of your attention. Thank you, Hermione. I'll see you at lunch."

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A/N Yay! I love reviews ;)


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